Another year, another Great Backyard Bird Count. Well, we actually hadn't participated in this volunteer science event since 1999, so we were excited about re-entering the fray. Especially since all it entailed was identifying and counting the birds in the one area where we actually are familiar with the species present—our exurban back-yard, outside San Antonio, on the fringes of the Edwards Plateau. For casual birders such as ourselves, this can make the difference between fun and frustration.
On Saturday, our event started with a bang, if a bit prematurely, as my idefatigable partner spotted, through the foggy mist, a huge flock of cedar waxwings leaving a live oak tree in our neighbor's front yard. Three groups of thirty or forty birds each taking wing—around one hundred total. Cedar waxwings, sleek, sharp-looking birds, are not a rarity in our neighborhood; yet they are far from a daily sight for us, and certainly not in numbers so large. I was far down the street on my weekly jog and missed them. But shortly afterwards, from our back yard, we both spotted what must have been part of the same flock, perching at the top of a live oak tree in our own front yard. We counted at least twenty, even though they were fading into the mist even from that short distance. Within a few minutes the rest of the huge flock flew overhead, and the waxwings in our yard left to join them, heading off towards the same neighbor's yard where my partner had originally spotted them. We quickly ran down to the street and followed.
And there we found them again: many, many dozens of cedar waxwings, filling the large live oak tree to the brim, practically a bird on every branch. We watched with our binoculars from about fifty feet away, not wanting to spook them. The soupy air that morning dimmed the subtle colorings of the waxwings, but they were unmistakeable nonetheless. I creeped closer, trying to eliminate as much of the fog in front of them as possible. After a few minutes, the flock suddenly left the tree as one, and flew in a majestic circle around me, before returning to the same tree, with a smaller group breaking off and perching at the top of a leafless tree further away. A few minutes after that, they again rose up as one, this time flying off down the street to another tree barely visible through the fog. Watching the flock of waxwings in flight was hypnotic, as the large flock moved like a single organism, tightly grouped and swerving instantly and simultaneously.
The rest of the count that afternoon proved much more routine, as should probably be expected for a backyard bird count. (More experienced birders would no doubt find the cedar waxwings mundane as well.) We saw the usual robins (a large flock), chipping sparrows, tufted titmice, carolina chickadees, carolina wrens, northern cardinals, western scrub-jays, house finches, a northern mockingbird, and a golden-fronted woodpecker (by voice).
Other than the cedar waxwings, the notable thing about our count was more about what we didn't see during our allotted time: american goldfinches (which we see almost every day normally, and did indeed see later that day), and greater roadrunners (which we see routinely, though not even close to every day). We did venture off into the cedar scrub adjacent to our house in search of a hermit thrush, but to no avail. More persistent or skilled birders than us might have had more success, though, since we've spotted at least one out there before.
Sunday, my partner proved her indefatigable-ness, by spending another hour or so repeating our count. No cedar waxwings this day, but she was treated to the sight of a red-shouldered hawk swooping down on our yard, disturbing the peaceful frolicking of all the titmice, chickadees, sparrows, wrens, and cardinals, who one instant were pigging out at and around the feeder and bathing themselves in the birdbath, and the next instant were cowering deep within the foliage of a large shrub.
In the end, after all our backyard bird counting adventures, we tallied up our counts, and submitted them to the website of the Great Backyard Bird Count, where they will go into the database of 35,368 similar counts from all across North America from Friday through Monday, and contribute to the scientific study of the winter distribution of bird populations across this continent.
Another treat of the day was to have the company of a friend, who is not an experienced birder, during the bird-counting escapades. From all accounts, he enjoyed the novelty of it all, and - who knows - may even try it in his own backyard some day.
Posted by: LoB | February 22, 2005 at 11:38 AM